"Ay, but thou must whistle louder than an unfledged ousel," said the
boy, as Tressilian, having laid down his money, and half ashamed of the
folly he practised, made a careless whistle--"you must whistle louder
than that, for who knows where the smith is that you call for? He may be
in the King of France's stables for what I know."
"Why, you said but now he was no devil," replied Tressilian.
"Man or devil," said Dickie, "I see that I must summon him for you;"
and therewithal he whistled sharp and shrill, with an acuteness of sound
that almost thrilled through Tressilian's brain. "That is what I call
whistling," said he, after he had repeated the signal thrice; "and now
to cover, to cover, or Whitefoot will not be shod this day."
Tressilian, musing what the upshot of this mummery was to be, yet
satisfied there was to be some serious result, by the confidence with
which the boy had put himself in his power, suffered himself to be
conducted to that side of the little thicket of gorse and brushwood
which was farthest from the circle of stones, and there sat down; and as
it occurred to him that, after all, this might be a trick for stealing
his horse, he kept his hand on the boy's collar, determined to make him
hostage for its safety.
"Now, hush and listen," said Dickie, in a low whisper; "you will soon
hear the tack of a hammer that was never forged of earthly iron, for the
stone it was made of was shot from the moon." And in effect Tressilian
did immediately hear the light stroke of a hammer, as when a farrier
is at work. The singularity of such a sound, in so very lonely a place,
made him involuntarily start; but looking at the boy, and discovering,
by the arch malicious expression of his countenance, that the urchin saw
and enjoyed his slight tremor, he became convinced that the whole was
a concerted stratagem, and determined to know by whom, or for what
purpose, the trick was played off.
Accordingly, he remained perfectly quiet all the time that the hammer
continued to sound, being about the space usually employed in fixing
a horse-shoe. But the instant the sound ceased, Tressilian, instead of
interposing the space of time which his guide had required, started up
with his sword in his hand, ran round the thicket, and confronted a man
in a farrier's leathern apron, but otherwise fantastically attired in a
bear-skin dressed with the fur on, and a cap of the same, which almost
hid the sooty and begrimed features of the wearer. "Come back, come
back!" cried the boy to Tressilian, "or you will be torn to pieces; no
man lives that looks on him." In fact, the invisible smith (now fully
visible) heaved up his hammer, and showed symptoms of doing battle.